THE CHRISTIAN SUN. IN ESSENTIALS, UNITY ; IN NON-ESSENTIALS, LIBERTY; IN ALL THINGS, CHARITY. Volume XXXIII. SUFFOLK, VA., FRIDAY APRIL 9, 1880. Number 15. LINES. BY BEV. H. B. HAYES. Original. How cheerless ii the piece, Without Thy pretence, Lord, The tokens of Tby lore and grace, The comforts of Thy word I But when Thy face we see, How brilliant erery line, How quick the shodows flee away, How bright Thy glories shine. And when this heart lies still, The pulse doth cease to beat, The opening scenes of glory will The deathless spirit greet. Will open bright the heavenly day, On that celestial shore. And clouds of sorrow pass away, And will return no more. And then to our immortal King, Amid the seats of heaVen, The shining hosts His praise shall sing, And endless honors be giTen. election^, here and there. —Be graceful if .you can, but if you can’t be graceful, be true.—Dr. Ar milage. —The young lady who can make a boast of her ignorance of all house hold duties should be allowed to be come an old maid. —He is a church member, but has not been to prayer meetiug during the past year. He did not have time. He belonged to six different “socie ties,” and they look all his nights. —Joiniug in the amusemeuts of others is, in our state, the next thing to sympathy iu their distresses, and even the slenderest bond that holds society together should rather be strengthened than snapt. —One who prides himself that “1 am a'plain blunt mau, who always say what I mean,” and accordingly goes about saying all things at all times, without regard to courtesy, discretion, or Clyistian kindness, is not a model of fraukuess, but rather a social pest.—8. 8. Times. —Friend or enemy, it is important to know just where your acquuiutau ces stand. We have a great deal of sympathy with the western hunter who “observed” that “the rattlesnake is a square, honest reptyle, that lets you know when he means to resootn business and gives you time to step ha^k.” —um i'hiueus xtice was oue ot tue quaint types of itinerant Methodist preachers. He had a hard patch Xo cultivate once, ana when he made his report to the Conference foliowiug,he reported the church “looking up.” The Bishop presiding expressed his pleasure, but asked for an explana tion, because no oue expected success in that parish. Bro. Bice was equal to the occasion, and added, “Well, Bishop, the church is on its back, and can’t look any other way.” There was a roar of laughter all over the Conference.—Ex. and Citron. —The Covenant remiuds Col. Iuger soil who tauntingly says that “the preachers in the United States cost us $12,000,000 every year,” that the lawyers iu this country cost the peo ple about $71,000,000, aud the crimi nals $40,000,000 and that the liquor bill amounts to about $60,000,000. According to this there ure some things which cost a good deal more than the preachers, among which is the profession of which Col. lugersoll is a member. —There is great meaning in the words that Jesus was continually us ing to describe the work that He did for men’s souls. He brought them into “the kingdom of God.” The whole burden of His preaching was to establish the kingdom of God.— < The purpose of the new birth for which He labored was to make meu subjects of the kingdom of God. Is it uot clear what it means t The kingdom of God for any soul is that condition, anywhere iu the universe where God is that soul’s king, where it seeks and obeys the highest, where it loves truth and duty more thau comfort aud luxury. Have you en tered the kingdom of God t Oh, how much that means. Has any love of God taken possession of you so that you want to do His will above all things, and try to do it all the time t Has Christ brought you there! If He has, how great aud new and glo rious the life of the kingdom seems. No wonder that He said you must be born again before you could enter there. How poor life seems outside that kingdom I How beautiful aud glorious inside its gates I SUCH AS I HAVE. BY WILLIAM NOBBIS BUBB. “It just makes me sick at heart whenever I think of poor Mrs Stiles!” exclaimed tenderbea,’ted Mrs. War ren, as she turned a tea cup in a pan of hot water before her, and then pro ceeded to wipe it dry. “Any new trouble, Sarah I” asked her husband, us he turned the news paper he bad been reading. “No, I don’t know as there is: but, dear me 1 I don’t see how the woman could live if another drop of hardship should come to her. Husband in the insane asylum; her ouly daughter just dead, leaving those two mites of children ; oue son with all that he can do to get bread for his own fami ly ; the other sou in Texas or some where ; not a cent hardly' to spend for herself, as I happen to know. I just think it’s too bad ; and if ever there was a deserving creature in this world, Mrs. Stiles is one.” “That’s true, Sarah ; but what cau we do for her I Silver aud gold we have uoue, you know, but such as we have I am sure 1 would be glad enough to give her, if I only knew what we could give that would help “Silver and gold wouldn’t come amiss, l’in pretty sure,” rejoined the good wife. “I can’t tell any more than you what we’ve got that would do her any good ; but she shan’t lack for a comforting word once in a while. I couldn’t sleep last night, just ior thinking of her.” There is a power of good iu a little thing sometimes,” remarked Uncle Jacob, who had been listening atten lively to the conversation. Uncle Jacob, as he was called by all the NVarreu family, was Mrs. Warren’s only brother, who recently had re turned to their Ohio home after hav ing lived several years iu California and Colorado. “That winter I was down in that Colorado mining camp, shut in there with all those rough men, I thought wore of a letter from the folks at home than I did of silver or gold; and once when I get one from Mary that had one from Willie iu it, I just went away from the men and cried. You see, when Willie louud out that his mother was writing to me, he wanted to write a letter too; sj Mary gave him a piece of paper and a peu, and he went to work to write papa a letter. Great work he made of it, to be sure, for he wasn’t three years old; but Mary sent it just as lie folded it, and I tell you that piece of paper, all blotted and crumpled, was worth morr to me than a bank note; aud’uo bauk note could buy it Tears came to Uic eyes of more tliau one member of that household, lor Uncle Jacob’s wile and baby Willie both bad died the previous year. Nelly Warren wiped her eyes, and leaned forward to stroke the cat, at tempting at the same time to choke back a sob. Pussy jumped into her lap, and the little girl sat a long time stroking the sofi, fur and thinking. “And the King shall answer aud say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have doue it unto me.” This was her “quarter verse.” The teacher of the Sunday-school class to which Nelly belonged gave to each of her scholars on the first Sunday of every quarter a verse, the teachiug of which she desired the scholar to apply specially to her character and life during that quarter. Nelly had at once memorized her .verse, and was on the alert for opportunities of doing something for Christ by help ing people about her. “lietnember, Nelly,” her teacher bad said to her, “that Christ takes note of every little thing; aud if you can do nothing more thau speak a kind word to a schoolmate, or glad den some heart by the gift of a flow er, if you do it for him he will accept the service as done to him.” “What can I do for poor Mrs. Stiles!” was the qnestiou she was tryiug to answer, as she sat there al most unconsciously stroking the back of the drowsy cat. The question was still unanswered when the clock announced her bed time ; but as she went to her room she said to herself: “I’ll go and see Mrs. Stiles to morrow, aud I’ll ask the Lord beforo I go to show me what I can do to help her.” * n # • * * “Mother, may I use the new scrap book you gave me yesterday just as I want to t” “Why, I think you may, Nellie, of course. I got it for yon to keep those clippings in you think so much of. Don’t yon want to use it for that!” “That’s wbat I intended to do, but I have a new plan now. When I beard what you said last night abont' Mrs. Stiles I thought I’d like to do something to bring a little sunshine into her life, so I stopped there just now on my way home from school, and I asked the Lord to show me if j there was anything I could do for her and I think he answered my prayer right away. When I went in, Mrs. Stiles wks reading a letter she’d just received from Bob Masou. You know she always thought a great deal of him, aud he calls her ‘mother’ when he writes to her, and she says his let ters are a great comfort to her! aud he always sends her some little poem or some other good thing he has cut from the papers, ami you know bow fond she is of such tlriugs. In the letter she got to-day, he sent a little poem about ‘Trust,’ and she said it did her so much good she was more willing than ever to put her hand iu God’s baud aud let him lead her. Then she showed me a little box with a good inauy scraps in it which Bob had sent to her; aud she said since she had been obliged to give up the religious paper she had taken for years, she just reads over and over those clippings Bob sends her, and now some of them are getting quite worn. I thought, if you’d let me, I’d till that big new scrap-book about half lull with my clippings, and give it to Mrs. Stiles, and she could have the other half for those she gets from Bob Mason. It wouldu’t be much to give to some folks, but she thinks so much of these things, and she misses her paper so.” Uncle Jacob had qorne iu from the barn while Kelly was eagerly making her plan known, and as she stopped for her mother’s approval of it, which she felt sure would be given, he said : “We’ll all putin the whole evening, Kelly, on that scrap-book, aud if we find good things enough we’il fill the book full. I guess Mrs. Stiles ought to have a scrap-book just for those things Bob sends her. We’ll get it for her iu some way.” Ko household iu the laud could have beeu happier that evening than were the Warrens. The table was left standing in the middle of the, room alter the supper dishes were cleared away, and about it were gath ered Mr. aud Mrs. Warren, Uncle Jacob, aud Kelly, all interested in filliug the scrap book. Nelly brought the book aud her little box of clip pi:;goj Alia Warren brought out au otlier lot of scraps which bail been accumulating lor several years ; while Air. Warren brought down trout an old chest up stairs a pile of old pa pers which had been laid awaj months before, “because it seemed too bad to destroy such papers.’ Piora the scraps already cut, Mrs. Warreu and Nelly begau at once to make selections and to paste the cho sen ones into the book, while Air. Warreu and Uncle Jacob searched the papers for such tid-bits as they all knew would delight the heart of their unfortunate neighbor. It was late when the book was All ied, “but it’s been a good work for as,” remarked Uncle Jacob. “I’ve got hold of some thoughts myself to night that I guess will help me to be a better man. This work’s done me good, Nelly, if it never helps anybody jlse.” The next morning Mr. Warren and Uncle Jacob went dowu to the vil lage, and wheu Nelly came in from school in the afternoon she saw on the table three new scrap-books. •This one is for Mrs. Stiles to use as she may wish ; that one Uncle Jacob bought for his own use; and the nther father bought far you,” ex plained Airs. Warreu. When Nellie took the two scrap books to Mrs. Stiles’ poor little home the good lady had gone to a neigh bor’s house to tea, so she wrote a note, and left it with the books just inside the door. When she returned from school the next day the follow ing note awaited her: Dear Nellie: How did you knew I have been hungry for weeks for just the things you brought me last night! L can’t thank you, but the Lord will repay you in some way, for I am sure he considers it a gift to himself. May he in all your sorrow send you comfort as you have com forted me. Come and see me very soon.' Your loving frieud, Caroline Stiles. “I think,” said Nellie, as she refol led the note, “the Lord has taught me that I must not wait to do some jreat thiug for him, but that he is pleased and kouored when I give irillingly and cheerfully such as I jave.”— S. S. Times. Nothing costs less, aiul nothing purchases as muck, as a kind, res pcctful, courteous and agreeable treat neat to others. SAVED FOR GREAT PURPOSES. I One night in a small (own in the north of England, a clergyman’s i house caught fire. ’ The fire burnt so i fiercely that there was only time for I the family to run for their lives, i Some of them were scorched and ; burnt as they escaped. But one child, not quite six years old, was left in the house. The light Irom the fire woke the little fellow up. He jumped out of bed aud ran to the door, but the flames drove him back. Then he cried for help. His father heard, and tried to get up the stairs to him; but could not force his way through the fire. The father thought his poor son was lost, he must be buiut to death. But he knelt down and prayed to God Tor him. The lit tle boy ran to the window, mounted a chest that stood under it, and cal led to the people below. Somebody saw him, andshouted, “Fetch a lad der !” But there was no time for that; the fl’ames had seized the roof and it was plaiuly about to fall in. So one man leaned against the wall, and another stood on his shoulders to reach the boy down. The boy leaped into his arms and was saved “a braud plucked from the burning 1 dare say most of you know who the little boy was. It was John Wesley, God had a great work for John Wesley to-do, aud he kept him alive to do it. Two boys were fencing—that is preparing to fight with swords as though they were soldiers. They had real swords with a button^ at the point of each, to prevent their hurt ing one another. One of the buttons broke, and the sharp sword ran through the side of one of the boys and nearly killed him. But it just missed the most dangerous place, and the wounded lad by aud by got better. Another time the same boy swimming in deepwater; the ribbou which tied up his hair got loose aud caught his leg. He struggled to free himself, but could not. Qe was about to sink, when the ribbou loos ed itself, and he was safe. Another time, when he had grown up to be a young man, he was swimming in the river ltbine, wbicb is a very broad and rapid river. He did not notice where he was going, and soon got into the very midst of its strong current. He said : “The water there was extremely rough, and poured along like a galloping horse.” It car ried him on till he struck against the strong timbers upon which a mill was built. The steam forced him right under the mili, and he became quite insensible. When he woke up, he found himself in a piece cf smooth water the other side of the mill. Some men helped him on shore. He had been carticd five miles from the place where he plunged into the water. Yet he was net hurt iu the least. The person I have just told you about was Johu Fletcher, one of the holiest men that ever lived. He became a great friend of Johu Wes ley, did much good as a minister of the gospel, and wrote some very use ful books. God had work for John Fletcher to do, so he would not let him die. Perhaps you have never been iu such danger as Moses and Johu Wes ley and John Fletcher were. But you must remember God keeps you alive every day and every hour. Any day au accident might happeu to you, or you might be takeu ill and die. God keeps yon alive, and guards you from all harm, because he has work for you. Will you ask him, “Lord, what wilt thou have me-do!” And will yon try to live so that wheu you see what he wants you to do, you may be able to do it 1 But remember, the very first thing God wishes in those who serve him, is that they love him. And then, though he may not give you quite as grand and well-known work as he gave Moses, John Fletch er, aud John Wesley, you can all be as holy. And God will find yon the work you can do best. Hying Words.—Ir is probably natural that at the last the scenes which have made the strongest im pressions in life should be recalled by memory. The old mouutaiueer, when he comes to die, with his last whisper, says his snow shoes are lost; with the stage driver he is “on the down grade anil cannot reach the brake ; the min er cannot get to the air-pipe; the sail or says eight bells have souudeil; aud the gambler plays his last trump. A little girl died a few years ugo, and, as her mother held her wrist and noted the faiutiug aud flickering pulse, a smile came to the wan face, aud the child whispered : “There’s uo more desert here, mamma, but all the world is full of beautiful flowers.” A moment later the smile became transfixed. Iu an Eastern city, not loug ago, a Sis ter of Charity lay dyiug, and at last from a stuper she opeued her eyes and said: “It is strauge : every kiud word I have spoken iu life, every tear that 1 have shed, has become a living flower around me, and they briug to my senses au iuoense meflible.” EXECUTION OF RIDLEY AND LATTIMEri. | In taming round, however, Ridley law Latimer coming np behind him j n the frieze coat, with the cap and \ mndkerchief—the work day costumei inaltcred except that under his cloak ind reaching to his feet, the old man vore a long new shroud. “Oh! be ye there?” Ridley ex daimed. “Yea,” Latimer answered. “Have : ifter as fast as I can follow.” Ridley i *an to him and embraced him. “Be of good heart, brother,” said le; “God will either assnago the lame, or else strengthen us to abide it.” They knelt and prayed together, and they exchanged a few words in a low voice, which were not overheard. Lord Williams, the Vice Chancellor, and the doctors, were seated ou a platform close to the stake. A ser mon was preached, “a scant one,” “of scarce a quarter of an hour,” and then Ridley begged that for Christ’s sake he might say a few words. Lord Williams looked to the doctors, one of whom started from his feat, and laid his bands on his lips. “Recant,” he said, “and you may both speak and live.” “So long as the breath is in my body,” Ridley answered, “I will never deny my Lord Christ and His owu truth. God’s will be done in me. I commit our cause,” he said iu a loud vpice. turning to the people, “Al mighty God, who shall indifferently judge all.” The brief preparations were swiftly made. Ridley gave his gown and tippet to his brother iu law, ahd dis tributed rememberauces among those who were nearest to him. To Sir Henry Lee he gave a new groat; to others he gave handkerchiefs, nut megs, slices of ginger, his watch and miscellaneous trinkets; “some pluck ed off the points of his hose ;” “hap py,” it was said “was he that might get any rag of him.” Latimer had uothing to give. He threw off his cloak, stood bolt up right iu his shroud, and the friends took their places on either side of the stake. “Oh, Heavenly Father,” Ridley said, “I give unto Thee most humble thanks for that Thou hast called me to be a professor of Thee even unto death. Have mercy, O Lord, on this realm of England, and deliver the same from all her ene mies.” A chain was passed round their bodies, and fastened with a staple. A friend brought a bag of powder, and hung it round Ridley's neck. “I will take it to be sent of God,'' Rid- j ley said. “Have you any more for my brother!" “Yes, sir,” the friend answered. “Give it him betimes, then,” Rid ley replied, “lest it be too late.” The fire was then brought. To the last momeut Ridley was distressed about the leases, and, bound as he was, he entreated Lord 'Williams to intercede with the Queen about them. “I will remember your suit,” Lord Williams answered. The lighted torch was laid to the fagot. “Be of good comfort, Master Ridley,” Latimer cried, at the crack ling of the flame. “Play the mau; we shall this day light such a candle, by God’s grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out.” “/h manus tuns, I) ominc commendo spirit uni meuin.” “O Father of ileaveu,” said Latimer, ou the other side, “receive my soul.” Latimer died first; as the flame blazed up about him he bathed his j hands in it, ,and stroked his face, j The powder exploded, and he became ! instantly senseless. Ilis companion was less fortuuate. The sticks had ■ been piled too thickly over the gorse ! that was under them ; the fire smoul dered round his legs, and the sensa tion of suffering was uuusually pro tracted. “I cannot burn,” he called ; llLord hare mercy on me : let the tire come to me; I cannot burn.’ His brother-iu-law, with awkward kind ness, threw on mere wood, which July kept down the flame. At last some one lifted the pile with “a bill,’ sud let in the air; the red tougnes ol tire shot up fiercely. Ridley wrested himself into the middle of them, and the powder did its work.—History of England from the Fall of Mosley to 'he death of Elisabeth. By James Anthony Fronde, ilf. A. A Southern physician has written i pamphlet to show that, as he be lieves, limestone-built cities are heal thy, and have no record of malarial disease, and giving the reasous why, n his opinion, this is true of them. Re asserts that “limestone is ever ab torbiug carbonic acid,” no matter i’roiu what produced, aud, “like veg station, is ever converting said dead ly poison into pure oxygen.” THE APPLE. The apple is nndoubtedly tbe most valuable, as well as tbe most widely known of tbe whole family of fruits. It has beeu termed by the great “Frnit Mau,” flowing, as the world-renown sd frnit of tbe temperate climates.1’ It seems, too, to be a native of tbe larger part of the whole globe. It Was well known long before tbe agricul tnral press came into existence, and is described by several writers of an tiquity. Its age and general acquain tance among tbe uatious of tbe world even has failed to make it tbe univer sal favorite that it should be. Tbe apple will flourish in a greater variety of soils than most other fruits and are more prolific as a rule. Tbe great mistake which tbe average far mer makes in its cultivation is in deeming it incapable of higher culti vation. Few take tbe trouble to do anything to their apple trees, think ing that while all other fruits require care and attention tbe apple tree is endowed by nature with a supernat ural vitality, which will save them all cultivation. Here lies the secret of a good apple crop. Every tree, wheth er cultivated for fruit or foliage, re quires attention and correction, and none more so than the apple tree. Most farmers assume that the apple orchard will take care of itself, and give it uo thought. Cultivation, care and attention will do for the apple exactly what it has done for the peach and the pear, and the day will come when the ordiuarv market apple will command as much attention and bt entitled to as much commendation tor luscious qualities as the peach or pear. Our people must, however, first divest themselves of the prejudi cial idea that while other fruits re quire atteutiou, the apple will take care of itself.—Exchange. Making Timber Dit.able.—Au easy aud simple method of rendering timber unusually durable, if hot prac tically iiidestructable, is of the great est value to the agricultural commu nity. Fence posts, sills of buildings and other timber exposed to influen ces which cause rapid decay, last but a few years under ordinary circum stances. It has long been known that lime is au effective preservative, act ing in this way by coagulating the albumen in the cellular tissue of the timber. Au easy method of prepar ing the timber has been applied prac tically by a French mining engineer. A pit was made in which the tim ber was placed ; quick lime was scat tered over it, aud then slaked with water. Alter being exposed a lew days to the action of the lime, the timber was removed and used as supports for the roof of a mine. Where unprepared timber lasted but two years, that pre pared iu this way has been in use for several years without the least ap pearauce ol decay.' This method of preservation vonnircnds'itseif for its simplicity and cheapness for farm use. Baked Apples.—This is a very healthful dish, anil may be made a very enticing one. Pare, and core large, juicy apples, but do not break them in pieces; fill the Centres with sugar, a little lemon juice and a thin bit of the yellow part of the lemon rind ; put a clove in each apple ; lay them in a pan with a little water iu the bottom ; sprinkle sugar on the tops and bake; taste them often, and when done set away to cool. Put them on ice if you can, the colder they are the better. Whip cream and spread over them thickly ; seud pow dered sugar around with them. If you cannot get cream, content yopr self by serving the apples with rich milk and sugar, or a boiled custard may be poured over them. Grafting Wax.—As the graft ing season is at band, aud so many inquiries are made about grafting wax, we give an approved formula that bas ever given satisfaction : One pound rosiu ; one-fourth pound bees wax ; one-fourth pound tallow. If the weather is quite cold, substitute two ounces liuseed oil lor the tallow. This amount—the half of it, or any multiple of it—may be made, provi ded the proportions remain the same. It may be applied to a cloth with a brush when quite warm, aud allowed to cool, wheu it is cut iu strips au* inch aud a half or two inches wide. Common field clay of teuacious qual ity bouud around the scion answers every purpose. THE actions of men are like the index ot a book; they poiut out what I is most agreeable in them. THE FEEDING VIRTUES OF BRAN. In an article under this heading in the A. 1. Time*, Alexander Hyde shows. Irom the analysis and manu facture of brau, that it is a very high value for stock feeding, and that Graham flour, (that is, flour retain ing the bran) is a more wholesome aud nutritive food than flour when bolted^ In concluding an elaborate article on the subject, be says : The conclusion is irresistible that bran has not been sufficiently appre ciated as food for stock in past tunes, and that Dr. Graham was right when he recommended unbolted flour as the best for bread making. Graham flour is specially adapted for children as it furnishes the material for ma king bones aud developing good teeth. Some objection is made to the use of brau by farmers, as it has a laxative tendency. This is due to mechanical, not chemical, influences the coarse particles, when fed aloue, often irritating the intestines, especi ally at the first feeding, if given in large quantity. This may be obvia ted by feeding brau gradually at lirsl, and in connection with hay. A slightly laxative condition of the bowels is far heavier than cue of k constipation; aud if children are | troubled with the latter, Graham ».j bread is just the food they need. One great recommendation of bra.. Ji as food for stock is that it makes the manure pile so rich. A large proportion of the inorganic matter (ash) in brau is composed of the va rious phosphates, just what most old soils need, these salts having been carried off in the milk aud meat sold. We have seen w onderful chan ges produced on old farms by lib era! feeding of cows with wheat brau. 'lhe pastures in a few years have renewed their age. ltye bran is not quite so rich iu ash as wheat, but it makes an excellent food for producing milk, as it coutains over: . 12 per cent, of protein compon just the thing tor cheese-making, and over 2 per cent of fats. Indeed, dairy farmers generally give the preference to rye bran, and one rea son is that it is fiuer, and does not induce such a laxative condition of the bowels. Huw Japanese Keep Meat.— The Japanese keep meat fresh in hot weather by placing the raw flesh in porcelain vessels and pouring on it boiling water, whereby the albumen of the surface is quickly coagulated aud forms a protection against the further action of the water. Oil is then poured on the surface of the wa ter so as to prevent the access of air and consequent putrefaction of the meat. Cold Slaw.—Cut the slaw up tine, take a teacupful of vinegar, with .a little salt, pepper, mustard aud su gar, a lump of butter about the size of a waluut, 5 teacupful of sour cream, 1 egg beaten up and mixed with the rest, set on the tire to boil, stirring it occasionally; pour it hot over the cold slaw, coyer up the dish till ready for the table. German Coffee Cake.—Taka bread dough the last time it is to be mixed, spread thinly on a buttered tin ; let it rise ; indent the top deep ly with your huger; sift sugar and powdered cinnamon over and dip on a little sweet cream. Bake immedi ately. It makes a splendid breakfast dish with coffee. Stale Bread.—A. nice way to use « stale bread is to fry it, simply dip ping it in cold water before putting it in the buttered frying pan. It will brown nicely and is liked by many as well as if dipped in beaten eggs. The latter makes a nice change in the bill of fare. Marshall B. Shaw, of Chester held, N. H., had one ewe that gave birth to three lambs, all ewes. Be fore the lambs were a year old each had a lamb, while the old ewe brought forth twins, making a flock of uiue from one mother within a year’s time. To Clean Silver.—Never put a particle of soap on silverware if you would have it retain its luster, soap suds make it look like pewter. Wet a ffauuel cloth in kerosene, dip it iu dry whiting and rub the plated ware, let it dry on it and then polish with a Chamois skin. A Farmer should always think iu advance of his work. The whole plau must be laid out in the head betbre the hands are put to it. Plowing should be done only when the soil will crumble loosely; when the plow smears the upturned surface > the soil will be injured.